Potter's Friends
by justmica
Summary: YouKnowWho is intent on taking everything Harry loves away from him. First it was his parents, then it was Sirius, and now...it's his friends. First Hermione, and now Ron. What's Harry supposed to do now?


**Author's Note:** _I do not claim to own any of these characters (except Wobbleton and Mrs. Cymsing,) the places, or anything thereof except for the general storyline. Characters, places, etc. all belong to J. K. Rowling._

_This chapter isn't complete, obviously. Neither is this story. This is about, oh, right in the beginning of the middle section if you consider it to be as large as book five of the real series. Yeah, I know. I slack off a lot. If you understood the way my insane mind thinks, then you'd realize that I write stories in part. I have a tendency of starting right in the middle of it. You know, where the action is. If you guys like this enough then maybe I'll buckle down and write in the parts that I know that you don't know. (Though there are a few—and may I emphasize the word 'few'—notes down at the end of this that I wrote for myself to know what will happen in later chapters.) This story I have in mind is about as complicated as the original Harry Potter story._

_Oh, and even if I do continue this, then it won't be done before the next book comes out. This is meant to be Harry's sixth year, my way, so I may just keep writing this even after the sixth book comes out because I probably won't have a chance to read it forever. Long story there and you don't want to hear it._

_I apologize if the characters are a bit flat and not as you'd imagine them, but this was just for fun. And by 'fun' my mind seems to think that involves thinking up thirty-four chapters worth of story and at least twenty-eight pages worth of notes. _

_Haha, yeah, I'm insane._

**Story Notes:** _I've had this story in my head forever. Just never wrote it down except for this one chapter and twenty-eight pages of notes. It's actually very complicated, but this chapter is the one that explains about a fourth of the actual complicated plot, so I thought it would be good to write and then post so I could remember what I was thinking without having to write the first twenty-six chapters._

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Chapter Twenty-Six

* * *

It was not long before Harry found himself standing outside Dumbledore's office, Professor McGonagall's hand grasping his shoulders so tightly he had lost feeling in both his arms. She had whisked him away immediately without a word after he had frantically explained the situation, her mouth set in the thinnest line he had ever thought possible and her aged face taut and grimly pale. Harry couldn't help feeling that if her face went any paler, she would look like a ghost.

Don't think about it, he told himself firmly. _Dumbledore will make things all right; he'll know where Ron and Hermione are…_he told himself firmly.

"Boysenberry treacle," McGonagall said hoarsely to the gargoyle, her voice sounding like a bad record.

Just as Harry had seen many times before, the statue sprang to life, jumping aside to reveal the passage and moving staircase beyond. The Professor hastily steered him in, following closely behind, and soon they were moving swiftly up, Harry's stomach growing more and more tight with every passing moment.

It seemed to be ages before they finally made it to the top. Harry was almost to the point of sprinting up the stairs, yelling for the Headmaster at the top of his lungs. He watched impatiently as McGonagall released his shoulder long enough to knock on the heavy door with the griffin-shaped knocker, muttering softly to him in a voice that had almost returned to normal. Almost, but not quite.

"Be careful what you say in there, Potter," she warned firmly. "The Headmaster might not be the only one who will be listening…"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, wondering what she meant, but the door had opened and he was being forced into the Headmaster's office, where he saw the answer for himself. He immediately closed his mouth, looking around in confusion and dread as the door closed behind him and McGonagall's grip on his shoulders tightened.

The only time Harry had seen this many people in Dumbledore's office was when Marietta from Ravenclaw had informed Dolores Umbridge that he, Harry, had organized an illegal Defense class and he had been caught and taken to the Headmaster's office last year. The memory was painful to think about; especially since the D.A. had been Hermione's idea in the first place, and any thought of his friend was too distressing to bear.

Just as last year Dumbledore was behind his desk, his face grim and almost emotionless, eyes flickering over Harry's face. Fudge was there as well, looking on the point of a nervous breakdown, his face twitching occasionally as if he just recovered from a very powerful curse. His robes were slightly askew, his gray hair rumpled and unkempt, he looked as if he had lost some weight, and the way he held himself made Harry think that he was going to collapse any moment. Kingsley Shacklebolt stood next to the worn former Minister of Magic, looking somewhat tired and drained as well, with another man Harry had not seen before on Fudge's other side. Harry glanced around a bit more, and felt the knot in his stomach loosen slightly as he spotted Mad-Eye Moody standing in the shadows, his magical eye and his natural one both turned on him curiously. The scarred Auror nodded his head slightly in greeting and Harry thought he saw a shadow of an encouraging wink, which he returned with a small smile.

For a few moments, Harry managed to forget why he had come there in the first place. Wondering why there were so many people in Dumbledore's office, he quickly glanced around at the rest of the group. A tall witch stood at Dumbledore's desk, hands behind her back, her expression giving off an impression that she was of high importance and wanted to make sure the rest knew it. And there, off to the side, much to Harry's distaste, was Snape, determinedly keeping his gaze away from Harry's face, his expression like stone. But not even Snape matched the sudden wave of dislike Harry felt as his eyes turned to the one who seemed to have been the center of attention before he and McGonagall had entered. Standing in the middle of the room, looking thoroughly shaken and terrified, his tear-strewn face and eyes looking as if he had been crying, stood Draco Malfoy.

Upon seeing Harry, Malfoy instantly stood up straight, his reddened, puffy eyes narrowing as he sneered. Harry's face hardened at the same time and he clenched his fists, having half a mind to pull out his wand and hit Malfoy with a good curse. He had no doubt in his mind that Malfoy knew something about Hermione and Ron's disappearances. It seemed just like something he would be involved in.

"Professor McGonagall, Harry," Dumbledore said in acknowledgement, his voice tight. "Is something the matter?"

Tearing his gaze away from Malfoy, and ignoring the vague curiosity on his reason being there and why it looked as if he had been crying, Harry listened as McGonagall quickly explained.

"Potter has just reported to me that young Mr. Weasely is missing, Headmaster" the Professor said shortly, her voice strained. "His dormitory is in ruins, and I have had to ask the prefects to try and keep the calm. The students are in a panic, Headmaster, it's all I could do to get them to stay in their common room, so I've had to send them downstairs to the Great Hall…Dumbledore, everyone believes it's You-Know-Who."

There was a stunned silence that followed her words, in which Fudge had started to twitch more visibly. Malfoy, hands to his side, was clutching a handful of his robe so firmly his knuckles were turning white, his eyes no longer focused on Harry, but straight ahead, as if he was afraid to look at anything or anyone else. _Let him squirm,_ Harry thought bitterly. _I know it's his fault, he has something to do with this…_

"Harry?" Dumbledore said, causing him to turn his gaze away from Malfoy yet again and up to the aged wizard's face. "Is there anything you wish to add? Perhaps a brief explanation of what you know happened?"

"Professor--I didn't see it happen," Harry said, almost defensively. He paused, trying to gather his voice and thoughts. He felt the need to tell everything he knew; anything might help in finding his friend. "Ron--he went upstairs to our dormitory to get his homework. I was waiting for him in the Common Room because Neville had accidentally spilled my stuff and I was trying to clean it up--and, and then there was a crash and a scream and we ran upstairs. And the room was in shambles, like a hurricane had run through it, and the window was open, and Ron--Ron was gone."

Dumbledore's face seemed to take on an even graver look as he turned his gaze away, his movements stiff. "Professor McGonagall, please alert the Weaselys and have them brought here to my office. Then have Harry's dormitory inspected for any clue as to who this mysterious kidnapper is. Professor Snape--have the school grounds and Hogsemeade searched thoroughly. No one is to leave this castle otherwise. Professor McGonagall, if you would also be so kind as to alert the Aurors. They may be of some help at this time. And have all the houses accompany the Gryffindors in the Great Hall. I will be speaking with them shortly. Kingsley, Wobbleton, if you may escort them…?"

Kingsley and the other man, Wobbleton, glanced at Fudge, who blinked and nodded hurriedly, before the two men swiftly following Snape and McGonagall out the office.

"Professor Dumbledore…?" Snape asked softly as he reached the door, turning to fix the Headmaster with a careful gaze.

"Malfoy will stay here," the Headmaster said with a slight nod, while Malfoy winced. "I will see to it that he is taken care of." Snape nodded in return then swept out of the room, wand drawn with Kingsley and Wobbleton following in suit. In a few moments, the door was closed and Harry was left with Malfoy, Fudge, Dumbledore, and the mysterious woman, who was frowning but had otherwise not moved a muscle. Harry was beginning to wander if she was even breathing.

"Dumbledore, you don't honestly think…?" Fudge spoke for the first time, his voice strained and cracked.

"No Fudge," the Headmaster said with a weary sigh. "It was not Lord Voldemort, or at least, not directly. Certain measures have been taken to assure that no one can try and break in from the outside without my knowing, and I for one, have certainly not given permission for the Dark Lord's followers to enter into my school. However," he said, fixing Malfoy with a penetrating gaze. "I do believe young Malfoy here may help enlighten us in this grave situation."

Startled by this news, but half expecting it all the same, Harry looked to Malfoy, who had suddenly dropped his arrogance and suddenly looked very much afraid. "I-I didn't do anything," Malfoy whined piteously. "It wasn't me, I swear it wasn't--"

"Don't lie boy," Fudge said rather fiercely in his shaky voice, causing Malfoy to start involuntarily and shoot a terrified and loathing glance at the Minister. "We know your father's a Death Eater! How do you expect us to believe his son would have nothing to do with any strange happenings around here--"

"That will be enough Cornelius," Dumbledore said sharply, causing Fudge to jump and start twitching and wringing his hands. "I know Mr. Malfoy is not telling us the entire truth--" Harry resisted a dark grin of satisfaction as Malfoy whimpered "--but that does not give you reason to accuse and threaten my students. Draco Malfoy, as well as his fellow classmates who also have parents currently known for serving the Dark Lord, are at this school by my invitation, and will remain here unless I have no other choice but to ask them to leave. At the moment, young Mr. Malfoy has given me no solid reason to have him expelled--"

"Dumbledore, be serious!" Fudge exploded, his eyes bulging slightly. "His father is a Death Eater! What more reason do you want? This boy might be in touch with him He could very well be working on orders from the Dark Lord himself--"

"Cornelius, need I remind you that once you accused another of my students for lying when, in fact, you now very well know he has been telling the truth?" the Headmaster said softly, his eyes regarding Harry closely.

Harry gulped and turned to look at Fudge, who seemed just as determined as Snape had been before to ignore him. "Yes, yes," the Minister said impatiently. "That's all well, but he had you to back him up! Who does young Malfoy have to believe him, eh? Who's going to get him out of this sticky situation, eh?"

As Fudge spoke, Harry couldn't help thinking that every moment Fudge spoke was one moment lost in finding the truth. He wiped his damp hands on his robe, glancing at Dumbledore and Fudge restlessly. How could he let this old windbag continue to argue like this? Harry thought furiously. How could he when there was so much more important things to talk about?

"He has me," Dumbledore said softly. Fudge, who had seemed to want to continue to rant and rave, stopped in mid-sentence, mouth open and round face red. Harry blinked in surprise as Dumbledore turned to him, his face oddly calm. "Harry, when did this attack on Mr. Weasely happen?"

"Er," Harry began nervously, trying to remember through all the confusion in his mind. "A few minutes before Professor McGonagall brought me here I guess…"

"Thank you Harry," the Headmaster said gravely. Harry, grateful that he did not have to say much more, nodded and returned to silence. "Do you see, Cornelius? Young Mr. Malfoy here has been in my office for the past two hours, therefore, he could not have directly attacked young Mr. Weasely himself."

Harry's mouth almost dropped open in surprise and he felt the bottom of his stomach drop. He looked up at Dumbledore incredulously. How could Dumbledore be doing this? How could he be protecting Malfoy like this? As much as he hated to admit it, Fudge could be right. What if Malfoy _was_ taking orders from Voldemort? And surely he had had something to do with his friends' disappearances…

"However," Dumbledore continued, and Harry looked up at him hopefully. "I do not doubt that he may know the person behind it."

All eyes turned to Malfoy, who had started to shake slightly in fear and nervousness under everyone's gaze. He was staring fearfully up at Dumbledore, his mouth clenched shut and eyes blinking furiously.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Dumbledore said softly.

"I-I have n-nothing to d-do with this, P-professor," Malfoy said after a moment, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "I-it wasn't my fault…"

"May I remind you _Malfoy_," Mad-Eye growled suddenly from the corner, saying the name with obvious disgust. "Of the original reason you were called here, and that lying to the Headmaster will only deepen the hole your dear _father's_ dug for you…"

"Alastor," Dumbledore said quietly in warning. Harry was hardly surprised to see Malfoy's grip tighten on his robes at the mention of his father.

"Just giving the little ferret a warning," Moody said with a grim smile, reminding Harry of the time in his fourth year when the fake Mad-Eye Moody had turned Malfoy into a white ferret and bounced him around the school corridor. The real Mad-Eye had obviously heard about the incident, and had also heard that Malfoy had not enjoyed the punishment in the least.

"I-I didn't do anything," Malfoy snapped, a little too quickly, his face going slightly pale at the memory. It seemed Malfoy remembered it too. It would honestly be hard to forget.

Dumbledore sighed and looked rather depressed. Fudge on the other hand, looked down right furious, but continued to glance worriedly at Dumbledore, which seemed to calm down his nerves enough to keep them under control. Harry glanced over at Moody, but the Auror's eyes--both of them--were focused intently on Malfoy. If Moody was trying to intimidate him, Harry was happy to see it was apparently working. The Slytherin was becoming more nervous with each passing moment, and tried desperately to avoid everyone's gaze, his hands now shaking due to the death grip he had on his robes.

Harry didn't feel sorry for him in the least. He had better people to put his sympathy towards, like the Grangers and the Weaselys. Who knew what had happened to Hermione and Ron? He just hoped it was nothing permanent. Whatever Malfoy got, he deserved it; just as long as it was something he wouldn't like.

"Then, Draco Malfoy, I am afraid you leave me no choice," Dumbledore said softly, suddenly seeming very weary as he motioned to Moody.

Malfoy visibly cringed as the Auror limped towards him, hand slipping into his robes, a twisted grin on his disfigured face. "Don't make this too difficult, Malfoy," Moody sneered. "Wouldn't want to hurt you _too_ badly."

Somehow, Harry highly doubted that.

"What-what are you going to do to me?" Malfoy said nervously, his voice going an octave higher as he backed away from the advancing Auror. "It better not be anything _illegal_, my father--" Malfoy stopped short.

"That's right, Malfoy, go crying to your dear father, I daresay he isn't in much of a position to be helping you…"

"Alastor, please," Dumbledore said, sounding exasperated. "Stop threatening young Mr. Malfoy. We are merely going to give you a small dose of very weak Veritaserum…"

Malfoy's eyes went wide with fear. "B-but--"

"I ask you to cooperate Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore gravely. "I like this as much as you do. However, if you choose to accept the Veritaserum willingly without a fight, I will see to it that any charges pressed against you as a result will be lightened."

"I…I…" Malfoy stuttered nervously, still backing away from Moody, who had paused in his advance. Harry, who realized that if Malfoy went any farther they would collide, quickly moved to the side, keeping well away from the former Minister.

"No one has to know what goes on here in this office tonight Mr. Malfoy," the Headmaster said with a small, reassuring smile. "Do not think that any of us--" his eyes flickered briefly towards Fudge "--are foolish enough to tell those who might bring harm to you."

"No…no, you don't understand," squeaked Malfoy, giving Harry a grim satisfaction. "He'll know…he always finds out…"

"Then I will see to it that you will be protected at all costs," said Dumbledore firmly. "I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, Mr. Malfoy. _Do not make this any more difficult than it already is_."

Harry seemed to be watching everything from far away, like a very vivid dream or Muggle show. He had never seen Malfoy like this, nor had he ever expected to, and all he felt now, in a whole, was an empty feeling. The Malfoys had always been the enemy, had always caused unnecessary trouble, or had at least been connected in some way. Malfoy had done everything in his power to make Harry's life miserable, and he in turn had tried to do the same. They both loathed each other's existence, maybe more than Snape loathed Harry. Feeling sorry for Malfoy, Harry felt, was like betraying his loyalty to Ron and Hermione, and that was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

"No, you can't…"

Harry blinked and came back from his daze in time to see Moody grab Malfoy by the arm and force him into a chair that had suddenly appeared in the middle of the room, facing Dumbledore's desk. Malfoy squirmed under the man's hard grasp as Moody forced his mouth open.

"Please Mr. Malfoy, I urge you to remain calm…"

"Stop struggling, you're gonna hurt yourself--not that that wouldn't be nice…"

"Alastor, _please_…"

"Sorry Professor…"

"Don't make us use our wands boy!"

"Cornelius, I have warned you not to threaten my students before…"

"Be reasonable Dumbledore! He obviously won't cooperate without a little _persuasion_…"

"If you dare land one curse on him…"

"A small curse _would_ be nice Professor, he's squirming like a bloody snake, or a bloody ferret, either one…"

"Alastor--"

"Sorry Professor, couldn't resist…"

The detached feeling Harry had felt only moments before began to leave him rapidly as he quickly thought of something to say to get the process going faster and his mind returned to the situation at hand. The sooner Malfoy drank the Truth Potion, the sooner they might find out where Ron and Hermione had gone, and Harry was determined to find out before anything bad happened to them.

"That's it Malfoy," said Harry suddenly from the corner, trying to act cool and amused when he felt almost sick inside. "Keep squirming. That ought to go right good with the rest of the school. Just think, everyone'll be talking about how loyal you are to your dear dad and his mate…"

"_Shut up Pot_--" Malfoy started to shout loudly, but, using Harry's distraction and the opportunity well, Moody shoved a small vial with a completely clear liquid into Malfoy's mouth and tipped his head. Caught off guard, Malfoy spluttered and took a gulp.

"That's the ticket Malfoy," growled Moody as he yanked the now almost half-empty bottle away. He gave it a little shake as he put the cork back in and looked over at Dumbledore. "Think he might've drunk a bit much…"

The Headmaster sighed. "Unfortunately, I dare say that could not have been avoided lest we used drastic measures. He will, no doubt, recover." He glanced at Harry and nodded slightly before swiftly moving around his desk and the still-silent woman, who had taken on a very ugly, unsatisfied look, to kneel before Malfoy.

He seemed to have stopped struggling and had gone into a trance, his eyes unfocused and jaw slackened, breathing slow and calm. The only thing Harry could see different about this than the other time he had witnessed a person under Veritaserum, was there was still a good deal of emotion on Malfoy's face. Harry had only seen the effects of Veritaserum once before in his fourth year when they had forced the truth out of Barty Crouch Junior directly after the Triwizard Tournament and Voldemort's rebirth. He knew what to generally expect, but seeing Malfoy as the victim seemed oddly strange and unnerving.

"Draco Malfoy?"

Malfoy's eyes flickered the slightest. "Yes, Professor?" he said, his voice oddly flat and distant. Harry glanced up at Fudge, noticing he was seemed to be hovering between wanting to lean eagerly in to listen, and backing away. Moody took to leaning on his cane, his magical eye now swiveling around in its socket, and the strange lady still had the ugly look on her face and had hardly moved an inch.

"Mr. Malfoy, would you be so kind as to tell us where your father, Lucious Malfoy, might be?" said Dumbledore, his voice soft and kind, as if talking to a very sick person on their deathbed.

Again Malfoy's eyes flickered and he winced slightly, an echo of pain streaking momentarily across his face, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. Harry blinked; he didn't think that that was normal.

"I don't know," Malfoy continued in his odd, drawling voice. "He doesn't say anything about where he is in his letters."

"What _does_ he say in his letters then?"

The pain flashed across Malfoy's face, this time more intense. "He says to find everything out about Potter that I can, any weaknesses or particular strengths. That's why he wanted me to come back to Hogwarts. He told me about the Dark Lord's plan to get rid of Potter, about how he wanted me to be a special part of it."

"This plan--what is it?" Dumbledore pressed, still keeping the same calm voice.

"To kidnap Potter's friends and force Potter to go face the Dark Lord where he chooses. A ransom really. The Dark Lord knows Potter values his friends above all else, just like he did Black."

Harry's hands clenched back into fists at the mention of Sirius. Painful emotions he had barely begun to control suddenly tore through him, leaving him weak and on the verge of punching Malfoy in the face. How dare he mention Sirius--

"Who has been taken for this reason? Which of Harry's friends does the Dark Lord want?"

Malfoy's face twisted momentarily in pain before turning to normal. "The half-blood, Granger, and Weasely, his two best friends."

"Ah, and where are they now?"

The boy paused before answering, seeming to consider on what he should say. "Granger got shipped off to Knockturn Alley after my father and the rest took her from her home during the summer. She's probably sitting in the basement of the old _Dragon Eye_ pub. Or at least that's what father hinted. He wouldn't say anything right out, only the stuff I needed to know. Weasely will be joining her soon, no doubt, if Wormtail's done his lot."

"Wormtail? Well, this is certainly interesting," Dumbledore muttered softly. "Tell me, what was your part in this plan?"

"It was in his last letter," Malfoy droned on. "I was supposed to sneak Wormtail into Hogwarts so he could kidnap Weasely. The Dark Lord suspected Dumbledore would put some kind of curse on the school and grounds to make it so no dark wizard could break in without his knowing. So Wormtail turned into a rat and I took him in with me in my pocket. Then, when I got a chance, I slipped him into Weasely's bag."

"Tell me Draco, why did the Dark Lord not send Pettigrew to go after Harry instead?"

Malfoy's face twitched slightly, his eyes flickering again. "The Dark Lord wants Potter for himself. The perfect little Potter, everyone's favorite little boy." At this, Malfoy's face took on an echo of a sneer before he continued. "The Dark Lord can't have him running around after he slipped through his fingers five times. Some wizards might get the idea that if perfect Potter can get the best of him, then anyone can."

"How long has it been since you've heard from your father Draco?" Dumbledore said quietly.

For a moment, Malfoy hesitated. "Last month I think. He can't write that often, only to give me instructions." Here he paused again, his face suddenly tightening with pain.

"What seems to be the matter Draco?" asked Dumbledore urgently.

"Father--" Malfoy gasped slightly, his hands clenching his robes in another death grip. "One night, he visited--not long after breaking out of Azkaban with the rest. He put some kind of spell on me, he said it was for my own protection…" As Malfoy's face screwed up more significantly in pain, Harry had a vague feeling it wasn't entirely for Malfoy's protection, but more rather for his father's and the Dark Lord's.

Dumbledore stood up abruptly, glancing over at Moody. "Alastor?"

The Auror shrugged lightly and looked at Malfoy with dislike. "Probably a countercharm to keep Malfoy here from telling anyone what he knows," he growled. "There's a couple to choose from, but with the Veritaserum in his system, I can't be too sure which one. The potion is probably the only thing keeping him from experiencing the majority of the pain."

Not for the first time that night, Dumbledore sighed wearily and Harry was reminded at how late it probably was. He too was feeling the effects of staying up so late into the night over the past few weeks. All he wanted to do right now was lay down in his nice warm bed…

But the thought reminded him that his dormitory was in shambles and Ron was no longer in it. Harry's throat tightened; he would do whatever it took to get his friends back, even if it meant marching down to Knockturn Alley and blasting his way through a hundred Death Eaters…

"Cornelius, alert the Aurors to Ms. Granger's whereabouts and get her out safely. I daresay she will be in quite a shock already, and I hate to think of the condition she must be in…"

Fudge blinked and looked for a moment as if to say something, probably--Harry thought in disgust--something to argue with Dumbledore about and make everything harder than it already was. If he wasn't so tired, he would have threatened Fudge to get going with his wand, but Dumbledore was already speaking.

"Now is not the time, Cornelius," he said, his voice firm and quiet.

The former Minister quickly closed his mouth and nodded, fidgeting with his sleeves as he took one quick glance around the room, then bustled out the door, refusing to look at Harry, who almost breathed out in relief now that he was gone. He didn't know how much longer he could stand being in the presence of Fudge; all the trouble he had caused already was not easy to forget.

"Take a seat Harry," said Dumbledore wearily, waving his wand and making a large, puffy chair appear next to his desk, not too close to Malfoy, who was still sitting dumbly, face echoing some sort of pain. Gratefully, Harry hurried to it, slumping into the cozy cushions with a sigh. The Headmaster conjured up several mugs of butterbeer and a plate of chocolate and small sandwiches, which he offered around to the others. Harry took one of the mugs and a handful of chocolate and numbly sat eating and drinking mechanically as he watched Moody swig his mug down and the strange lady refuse with a small twitch of her head.

Where were Ron and Hermione now? Were they all right, would he ever see both of them alive again? He forced a rather large piece of chocolate down his throat at the thought. He _would_ see them alive again, and soon. The Aurors would get Hermione and Ron back…or at least he hoped.

Harry felt Moody move next to him, watching Harry carefully with his natural eye. "Good thinking with Malfoy, Potter," he growled softly. "Though I daresay rather blunt…"

"I do believe we will wait here for Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape to return," Dumbledore muttered softly, taking a large bite of a turkey and radish sandwich and swallowing. "The Weaselys should be arriving soon…"

Harry's stomach took a jolt as he remembered grimly. What was he going to say to them? It was his fault Ron was missing in the first place. For a few moments, Harry lost interest in his food and drink, instead staring blankly at the floor and the bottom of Moody's cloak. If only his friends knew how much he missed them...

"Oh, Harry, allow me to introduce Ms. Patricia Cymsing from the Ministry's Education of Magic board of directors," said Dumbledore, motioning to the silent woman. She nodded in the slightest, her dark eyes flickering over Harry's face. "She's been taking care of young Mr. Malfoy here. I don't believe you know Mrs. Malfoy is no longer with us?"

Harry blinked in shock and Dumbledore smiled grimly. "Yes, yes, there was a frantic raid on the Malfoy manor shortly after it was announced Voldemort truly had returned. Tragically, dear Narcissa was in the wrong place at the wrong time." A sad glimmer flickered behind the Headmaster's glasses. "Young Malfoy was not home at the time, and was immediately sent to the Ministry to be taken care of. Unfortunately, he found out about his mother just today--the Ministry thought it best that young Malfoy was kept in the dark until I could explain to him myself." He paused to look sadly at Malfoy, his eyes flickering in disapproval when he mentioned the Ministry's decision. Now at last, Harry knew why Malfoy had been crying. He still couldn't resist the urge to think that if anyone deserved it, it was Malfoy. "Ms. Cymsing has been kind enough to take in Mr. Malfoy, since it seems--what was it-- 'that Lucious Malfoy is unable to adequately provide for the needs of his son?"

He looked to the woman hopefully, who nodded and sniffed. "Anyway," continued Dumbledore. "Those who are in the same situation as young Malfoy here--you should know a few of them, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott--are also under the custody of selected guardians for the time being, though they, both the children and the parents, have protested rather greatly."

Dumbledore fell silent and looked thoughtfully at Malfoy. Harry was building up the nerve to ask him if he could go out and help search for Ron when a heavy knock sounded on the door. Interestedly, Dumbledore looked up as it opened and a flustered looking McGonagall quickly led in a worried Mr. and Mrs. Weasely, both smiling distractedly at Harry who smiled encouragingly back, his food forgotten.

"The dormitory has been checked over and cleaned Headmaster," reported Professor McGonagall wearily. "They found traces of a stun curse and a weak Imperious, and that is all."

"Very good Minerva, thank you," Dumbledore said, immediately growing serious and setting his mug down. He conjured up several more chairs, in which he had the Weaselys sit in and offered everyone some more butterbeer and food.

When everyone had taken something--even Ms. Cymsing quietly accepted a bit of chocolate and took a sip of butterbeer--Dumbledore settled himself in his chair behind his desk and fixed the Weaselys with a grave gaze.

"I am very distressed to bring you this news," he began softly and sincerely, looking each in the eye.

"Professor McGonagall said it was about Ron," Mrs. Weasely said, her voice higher than usual.

"Unfortunately, it is," said Dumbledore. "It seems young Mr. Malfoy here--" he indicated the still silent Malfoy "--has been working under the Dark Lord's and his father's influence. He brought in a certain rat that was in fact Peter Pettigrew, who, just recently, managed to kidnap your son…"

Mrs. Weasely let out a shriek and started sobbing uncontrollably onto her husband's shoulder.

"Has he been found? Is he safe?" Mr. Weasely demanded, his face white as he shot a dark glance at Malfoy, who was completely oblivious to everything around him.

"I am having the grounds and all surrounding villages searched thoroughly," said the Headmaster reassuringly. "I assure you Arthur, I will do everything in my power, whatever it takes, to find your son."

Once again, Harry seemed again to be watching from far away as Mrs. Weasely bawled and Mr. Weasely tried to comfort her, looking at Malfoy with a sour gaze. Dumbledore began to explain about what Malfoy had told them in a grave, gentle voice, and Harry drifted in and out of attention. Taking more chocolate and a beef and cheese sandwich when he was offered it, merely for the want of something to do, he sat, miserably thinking of how horrible it must be for Hermione and Ron right then, and how he wished they were okay.

The large grandfather clock behind Dumbledore ticked steadily on as the night deepened. Harry found himself drifting in and out of sleep while the adults talked quietly, their voices anxious and taut. It was so warm and comfortable, there in Dumbledore's office; so safe and secure. As long as Dumbledore was there he would be safe. Ron and Hermione would be found soon, and then they'd go down to the Great Hall and have breakfast with the rest of the school. He would be telling them about everything he had found out, and Ron would say again how much he hated Malfoy, and Hermione would say something thoughtful, and it would be just like any day, just another normal day at Hogwarts…

Harry wished fervently that they would have another of those days.

Author's Since-I'm-Probably-Never-Going-To-Finish-This-Here-Are-A-Few-Ideas Notes:

_Malfoy sneaked 'Scabbers' (Wormtail) into the school and into Ron's bag when he wasn't looking. Wormtail is the one who kidnaps Ron. Malfoy is restricted in the use of magic and his wand is taken away. He is only allowed his wand during class time and is warned to keep in line. Due to the fact he drank too much Veritaserum, the effect of the potion does not wear off for quite a while, and he is forced to tell the truth whenever someone asks him a direct question._

_Ron is found--well, rather rescued--in very poor condition and Snape is injured badly (substitute Potion's teacher for a small while) and despite heavy injuries, Wormtail once again gets away. Hermione is found in a dingy part of Diagon Alley shortly after by a small army of Aurors who act on the facts from Malfoy when he was under Veritaserum._

_Fudge is no longer considered the Minister of Magic. He was ousted by a vote by the Wizengot council. But since Dumbledore does not wish to take the job (he was the one, and the only one, who anyone wanted to take the job) Fudge is stuck in the position, taking orders and advice from Dumbledore who continues to remain at Hogwarts._

_Harry ends up saving Draco Malfoy like James saved Snape._


End file.
